why can't i be one of those people that just flitters from here to there every few months, like it's natural, like that's just how they roll, man, like a rolling stone... i know a lot of those people, or i knew them for a time - and i never questioned it, i just felt grateful they were around with me for a while - maybe i'll catch them later, at least on facebook
why do i feel so guilty about even thinking about going anywhere, like i ought to be here, like it's the Right Thing to Do, like i'd be so foolish and ungrateful if i packed up and tried some place new? oh, i guess there's a lot of good reasons for that feeling, but really, are there enough?
it's this weather, perhaps, it's not that it's that bad, it's that it's this bad in august - and it's like the sun is a godayum novelty - a little trinket dangled above the crib every now and then - and i never even got the chance to get bored with it - yeah, there's too much mood here - oh, i'm sure i'd find a way to bring massive nimbus moods with me anywhere
it's the age old churning of the substrate, to consign it to near-meaningless visual metaphor - but i like the sound of it - like the sound of geese honking and melding with the highway traffic - i'm going to eat another candy even though the teeth on my left side are protesting, but i'm going to use the teeth on my right side - they'll be good for a while longer
8/05/11
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Got no one to talk to, so I’m venting online. So, I really tried to hustle this week. Applied to five places. Even with the xanax it was har...
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Actual composition instead of an hour-long improv indulgence, 'sbeen a while. I wanted to call it The Dandy Whoremonger, but settled on ...
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Doing a writing exercise, I guess, is what I'm doing. Because I've hardly written anything for months. Since I got sober, yet again....
not paranoid when you should be just one of my normal keyboard improvisations, nothing special, except that it's recorded on a real grand.
2 comments:
Hey, you look beautiful in pink.
Yes, my left side is effed too.
silly tangible lemons, even on the horizon.
the trick is to laugh when there aren't even any lemons.
no concocting.
practicing existence.
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